


Gandalf158's Collection of Zootopia One-Shots

by Gandalf158



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Implied Future Wildehopps In Reunion, Possible Wildehopps In Future Chapters, Trigger Warning: Puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6609478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalf158/pseuds/Gandalf158
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots set in Zootopia that may or may not share continuity with each other, or even the movie's canon. Rated T just in case. Please review, this is mostly me trying to get a feel for the characters. Also, ideas for one-shots are welcomed. WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ZOOTOPIA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death

Death

By: Gandalf158

 

                The smell is what got her, or so Nick thought. He sighed as she emptied her stomach noisily into a trashcan. He had been no stranger to death, having lost his father at a young age, and had even seen his fair share of _violent_ death in his twenty-plus years of life on the street, but the one thing he knew he’d never be able to get used to was the _stench_.

                They had been on patrol when a call came over the dispatch radio, a 187 that just so happened to be less than a block away from them. Being relatively new to the world of law enforcement, Nick had no idea what a 187 was, but judging from the mixture of excitement and fear in his partner’s face told him it was something big. He was surprised to learn, Judy having noticed the uncomprehending blankness of his gaze, that a 187 was the standard dispatch code for a murder. Any other officer would probably sighed, resigned themselves to the macabre play of death they were about to enter, but not Judy ‘Excited By New Things’ Hopps. Her purple eyes shone with excitement that to anyone outside of her circle of friends might’ve thought was a sign of madness given the circumstance, causing Nick to roll his green ones in an attempt to cover up the half-dread/half-curiosity he felt towards the new case.

                When she had thoroughly voided her breakfast in to the steel receptacle, she slowly made her way back to Nick’s side. All the warmth and joy that her eyes usually held seemed to have gone with the half-digested toast and coffee, blasted away like the chest of the victim that lie splayed out in front of them. He was a tiger, somewhere between Nick and Judy in age, but in life he probably towered over both of them. Whoever wanted him dead had done a very good job in assuring he wouldn’t survive the attack; no less than eleven brass casings littered the ground around the scene, each marked with a little forensics tag. Both of them could identify the casings as standard .45 ACP rounds, Nick from years of living dangerously with murderers and thieves, and Judy from her extensive studies during her time at the ZPD Police Academy.

                “You two the detectives on this case?” a koala wearing a green sweater over a white dress shirt asked.

                “No sir, we’re just here to assist with the investigation.” Nick said when Judy failed to answer.

                The koala nodded and got back to examining the body, taking notes on a little note pad after shifting parts of the deceased cat’s body. Judy didn’t understand how they could both be so calm about this, and struggled with an urge to dry-heave again as each movement of the body released more of the smell of death. There was only one word she could attach to it, just one word that her mind repeated over and over in a futile attempt to lessen its significance: _decay_. It burned her nostrils and filled her mind with unpleasant thoughts about what this poor soul’s final moments must have felt like. She sent a silent prayer that she would never become as comfortable with death as the koala seemed to be, but envied Nick his ability to at least keep his meals down in the face of the crimson-stained horror show set before them.

                Luckily for both of them, the detectives assigned to this murder arrived shortly after they did, and they waved the pair of patrol officers off. Judy breathed a sigh of relief when they finally got to a point where she could no longer smell the blood and death. Had she been paying attention to her surroundings, she might not have walked headlong into the side of their shared patrol car. Nick rushed over in concern, putting a paw on her shoulder and asking whether or not she was okay.

                “I’m fine. Just a little rattled.” She said quietly.

                His eyes seemed to search her, weighting her response with how she was acting. He had never seen her like this, and the word he decided was best to describe her as she currently looked wasn’t ‘rattled’, it was ‘hollow’. Almost as if a little part of her died with the tiger and got left behind, another piece of evidence (though he doubted anyone would find it very helpful) to be bagged away and buried in a case file. He felt nothing short of pity for his friend, she had seen death in all its gruesome glory, and didn’t like what she saw.

                “I’d better drive, Carrots, you seem a little out of it.”

                She gave him the keys without protest, wanting nothing more than to get home and try her best to forget what she just witnessed. She climbed into the passenger seat and waited for Nick to turn over the ignition. As he drove off from the scene, he stole a few more glances at his long-eared companion, each one a little more concerned than the last. She stared blankly off into space, no doubt trying to think about anything but death. He remembered his first brush with it; he was fifteen and was in the middle of a hustle involving some…illicit goods, and it went sideways and ended with him in the hospital and his friend in the morgue.

                “You can cry if you need to, just let it out. I won’t judge.” He said sympathetically.

                She didn’t feel like crying. In fact, she wasn’t all that sure what she _was_ feeling at the moment: sadness at the loss of life? Sure. Anger? Maybe, but who was it directed towards? The murderer for ending the man’s life? Her own weakness in the face of death? Nick for keeping his cool attitude even when she couldn’t? Was it disgust at the horror of it all? Fear of something similar happening to her or Nick or even her parents and siblings back home? She just didn’t know.

                “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, trying to get her to say something.

                “Not really. Nothing to talk about, he’s dead, someone killed him, and the detectives are going to bring him to justice.” She said, hoping he would drop it.

                “It might help you. This is a traumatic experience, Judy. I’m here for you, and you know that I’m good at keeping secrets, so whatever you need to do to get through this, do it. No one needs to know.”

                In response, she curled into a tight ball and started sobbing softly. She did feel like crying after all, but didn’t want to appear weak in Nick’s eyes.

                “It’s going to be alright, Judy. I know one of the guys on the case, he was an old friend. They’ll catch the guy who did this, and when they do, he’ll pay for what he’s done.” He said, his face sympathetic and his eyes filled with fury.

                “Have you ever seen anything like that before?” She asked, remembering how calm he was in there.

                Nick’s eyes softened, and for a moment, he was fifteen again.

                “Yeah. Long time ago. It doesn’t get any easier, you just get better at hiding it.”

                It was her turn to ask him if he wanted to talk about it.

                “It was a few years after I decided to become a criminal. Back then, I wasn’t the criminal mastermind you met in Jumbeaux’s, and was running with an old dingo who said he could teach me the tricks of the trade. Little did I know that meant he was training me to be a drug-dealer.” His lip curled up in disgust at the word, “Anyway, we were making a sale to a gang of badgers over in Savanna Central, and they didn’t like the deal they were getting, and started to _imply_ we should drop or prices, or they’d drop us. They started getting aggressive, and my friend pulled a knife. They pulled a gun and put one right between his eyes. The lead badger turned towards me and punched me in the stomach before bringing his weapon to bear. He told me to ask for his forgiveness, and he might give it to me, but he had just killed my friend, and I thought to myself ‘I’m not giving this guy the satisfaction’, so I spat at him. Earned me a bullet to the chest.” Judy shuddered at that.

                “That’s terrible.” She said.

                “Yeah, it was. Death sucks, violent ones especially, but you can’t dwell on it, or it’ll get you dead too. But, if you ever need to cry, or talk, or whatever it is you need to do to cope, go right on ahead. I don’t mind.” He said.

                “How do you deal with it?” She asked, genuinely curious as to how he got over such a traumatic event at such a young age.

                “Before we met, I’d probably have just bottled up all my emotions bury it deep under false narcissism and cheesy one-liners, but now I don’t know. Maybe I’ll paint a picture or something.”

                She giggled, finally getting a little life back in her eyes. Nick cracked a small smile, feeling a small amount of pride for helping her get through that. He hoped they didn’t have to see any more murder scenes for quite a while, but at least he knew she would be okay.

                _“Who knows,”_ he thought, _“Maybe I’ll be okay too.”_

 

END


	2. One-Liner

One-Liner

By: Gandalf158

 

            I took a deep breath as I pulled my sidearm from its holster and brought it to bear. I was ready for this, I’d been working on how I’d handle this for weeks. The Academy never really covered this subject, but I knew it would come up, so I made sure to practice it every chance I got. I felt a little nervous, but didn’t know why because for once I was actually in my element. I knew exactly what I was doing. My eyes sharpened, laser-focusing on my target, and a small grin spread across my face.

            _“I got this.”_ I thought.

            “Drop it, dirtbag, before I drop you!” I shouted.

            The faceless accuracy target didn’t react, but I was satisfied with what I’d said. My grin grew a little as I made a ‘bang’ noise and mimicked the kick of the handgun before holstering it again. One thing about it didn’t feel right, though, the words were right, but they just didn’t seem like they were fitting together like I had hoped. As I thought about it, I realized what it was and fixed it in my head. Once more, with feeling.

            “Drop it before I drop you, dirtbag!” I said.

            _“There it is.”_

Now _that_ was a one-liner. I stared at the target, imagining the reaction the criminal would have if there had been one in front of me instead of a lifeless target practice dummy. I stood there for a moment, trying to think of something else to throw out there, but nothing was springing to mind. I heard a giggle behind me and almost jumped out of my pelt, and I’m a little ashamed to say I probably let out a little ‘yip’ of surprise.

            “I don’t think it’s impressed, Nick.” I would recognize that voice anywhere.

            “Eh, tough guy over there isn’t impressed by much. He’s seen some stuff, Carrots, things that would break a lesser target.” came my sarcastic reply.

            Judy didn’t look impressed either, but she at least rolled her eyes, so I counted it as a win. I had no idea how long she had been standing there, nor how much she heard, but judging from the taunting look on her face the answers were probably ‘the entire time’ and ‘everything’.

            “What exactly are you trying to accomplish here, Nick? You plan to talk criminals into submission?”

            “If the need arises, yes. Yes I do. Besides, rule number one of being a cop is you have to master the subtle art of the one-liner. It can make or break a stressful situation, and makes for good quotes to use when you eventually tell the story to your friends.” I said.

            Judy crossed her arms and gave me a look somewhere between disbelief and bemusement.

            “Rule number one, huh? Don’t remember learning _that_ during training.”

            “Well, you wouldn’t have. Most cops in this city don’t bother to pick up a detective novel every once in awhile. You know what every good detective novel has in it?” I asked her.

            “One-liners?” her eyebrows raised, and her ears tilted forwards slightly.

            “Not just any one-liners, they have to be good one-liners. At the end of the day, cops in books are judged by the quickness of their wit, and the best way to show it is to say something that people will remember.”

            She still didn’t look convinced, her eyes focused on me, trying to judge whether or not I was being serious. I didn’t really know how much of this was serious or not myself, but I’d already come this far, so why not take the joke all the way?

            “Just trust me, it’s a good skill to have.”

            “Well, if you say so. Might as well practice it while I’m here, and you’re the expert, so tell me: what do I need to do to master the art of the one-liner.”

            I cracked a smile. This was going to be fun.

            “Just pretend I’m a criminal. You’re in Tundra Town, and see me, in a fit of mischief, swipe some poor hare’s purse. What do you say?”

            I saw the telltale signs that the gears in her head were working overtime; eyes squinted, lips pursed, paw resting under her chin. This was either going to be the best one-liner in history, bar none, or-

            “ _Ice_ to meet you, punk, but it’s time for you to _freeze_.” she said, making a gun with her fingers.

            Or it could possibly be the most cringe-worthy pun I would ever have the displeasure to hear.

            _“Palm, meet face, I think you two would be a cute couple.”_ I thought.

            I drew in a ragged sigh, trying to contain my laughter at the sheer cheesiness of the line and clutching my face in an attempt to simply disappear.

            “How was that?” she asked.

            “Just terrible, Carrots. Terrible. Turn in your badge and your gun, you’re off the case.” I said, raising my face out of my paw.

            “That really hurt, Nick. You know, I’m over here, trying my best, and you won’t even help your good friend learn this most useful of skills?” she said, face contorted in false offense and paw to chest in an overly dramatic feint of shock.

            Okay, terrible puns I could handle. I can even handle sarcasm in extreme measure, but overly-dramatic responses to stuff like that was _my_ thing. We’d been partners for like a month, and she was already stealing my schtick? I didn’t know whether to be offended or horribly pleased.

            “There are some things that just can’t be taught, Judy. Humor is one of them. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

            Another eye roll told me she still wasn’t convinced.

            “Let me show you. Here, you’re the criminal, we’re downtown, you’ve just shockingly taken candy from a baby,” a scoff and a _third_ eye roll (I guess you could say that _I_ was on a roll), “When along comes ZPD Officer Nicholas Piberius Wilde, to thunderous applause from the many onlookers. I pull my stun gun and take aim at you, you criminal scum, and say ‘sweet dreams, punk’ before shocking you into submission.”

            “Oh woe is me, undone by the insufferable wit of Nick Wilde!” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

            Someone cleared their throat loudly behind us, causing us both to turn our attention to Chief Bogo who had just stepped through the large doorway (though he managed to make it look almost too small) and was standing with his arms folded and fixing us with a slightly disapproving stare.

            “Chief Bogo!” Judy said, snapping to attention.

            I threw up a half salute, “Have you come with a commendation for me for bringing down the Sahara Square Sweet Snatcher?”

            I could tell Judy was trying her best not to smile at my joke, and the look of confusion that broke through Bogo’s stern expression as he snapped his head in my direction was enough to get a grin out of me. He stared in silence for a moment, probably trying to decide exactly how he wanted to respond to that, and a quick glance in Hopps’ direction told me that she was starting to get nervous: ears folded back, jaw set, and I could see her urge to tap her foot in her apprehensive eyes. He eventually decided to apply his trademark ‘angry-neutral’ silence to the whole thing.

            “Chief, we were just-” Judy started to say before getting cut off by Bogo raising his hand in that ‘don’t say another word’ gesture he was so fond of.

            “Don’t want to hear it, don’t care. I just came down here to tell you two that you have patrol duty in Sahara Square today.” After he finished speaking, he turned and left the room as silently as he entered it, shutting the door behind him.

            “Why do you always have to antagonize him, Nick? You do realize he’s our boss, right?” Judy said, wheeling on me as soon as he was gone.

            “Hey, I’m just trying to keep it light, Carrots. Why do _you_ always get so nervous when he’s around? It’s not like he doesn’t trust you to do your job, you’ve _more_ than proven that you’re just as good a cop as anyone else in this precinct, Bogo included.” I said.

            She looked like she was struggling with it, but eventually nodded.

            “Now, where were we?” I asked, bringing a paw up to my chin in (mock) deep thought, “Ah yes, I was trying to impart my intimate knowledge of the art of the one-liner. Let’s try something else: you’re in the middle of downtown, standing outside a diner. You hear a scream behind you and run to investigate. As you turn down the alley, a man shouts to you that his watch has been stolen. You chase after the criminal, and eventually apprehend him, recovering the watch. What do you say?”

            She stood there for a moment, thinking it over. I didn’t exactly have high hopes, given her last attempt, but maybe she had done that intentionally? Surely she couldn’t have _actually_ thought that line was even the slightest bit funny, could she? One way or another, I got ready for the worst when her eyes finally glittered with the arrival of what had to be her response. A sly grin to rival any I had ever worn spread across her face, and she took in a breath.

            “Looks like you’re _out of time_.” She said.

            I nodded approvingly. So there was hope for her after all, then.

            “Good start. Stick with me, kid, you’ll pick it up sooner or later.” I said, patting her on the head.

            She growled a little in protest, and pushed my hand away, crossing her arms and fixing me with a stare that could melt ice. Slowly but surely, that look of rage cracked and a smile slowly spread across her face. I knew she wouldn’t stay mad at me.

            “Come on, Carrots, I think that’s enough practice for today. Hey, maybe we’ll stumble on some criminal activity and you’ll get a chance to give it a go for real!” I said.

            “What makes you think that? If you’re to be believed, apparently I’m barely scraping by in a  practice scenario. What if I embarrass you in front of the good animals of Zootopia?”

            “I find that stressful situations unlock the brain’s full capacity for making clever quips.”

            “So what you’re saying is, if something happens in Sahara Square I’ll be able to make a better joke…” the pause gave me just enough time to turn around, “ _In the heat of the moment?_ ”

            I shrugged.

“You’re getting there, but I wouldn’t quit your day job just yet.”

A fourth eye roll, which had to be a new record for one conversation, was the only response I would get out of her as we left the range…

 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!! I'm still looking for ideas for more one-shots, so feel free to send them my way however you think would be best to get it to me. I will say, as I've gotten a few of these and just want to be clear on this, I will NOT accept any r34 ideas. It's a personal thing, and will not bend on that matter. Other than that, if you have an idea, I'll see what I can do.  
> Also, please comment and/or drop some kudos if thou like what you read and tell me if there's something I need to fix or work on. Thanks for reading!


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick confronts a ghost from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone. Sorry it's been a while, computer problems have made it almost impossible to get any work done. Anyway, I haven't gotten anyone to proofread this, so if you find any mistakes, please make a comment so I can fix it. Thank you in advance, and I hope you enjoy this one! P.S.: Sorry none of this is indented, I can't figure out what I'm doing wrong. If anyone has an idea on how to fix it, please help.

Reunion

By: Gandalf158

 

I took a deep breath. My mind was busy trying to think a thousand different thoughts at the same time, though, so the act did little to calm my nerves. I lifted a paw to knock on the door. I hesitated a few inches from the wood, another wave of nerves stopping me short. _What will she say? Is she going to be mad at me?_ I couldn’t help but imagine the look of disappointment waiting for me on the other side of that door. I shook my head to clear it and took another deep breath.

“I can’t do this. I’ll just call her later.” I said, turning to leave.

“Nicholas Piberius Wilde, you are _not_ reconnecting with your mother over the phone. Now knock on the door, or I’ll do it for you.” And that stopped me short.

Judy had her paws on her hips and a stern expression on her face. I brought her along for one reason, and one reason only: she was too stubborn to let me back out of this. I had to admit, she was doing her job _very_ well. Though, I was regretting telling her my middle name.I breathed in again and held it this time. I let it out slowly. I was still nervous, but at least I was able to get a grip now. Judy’s gaze softened a bit.

“Everything is going to be fine, Nick. She’s your mother, she’s going to be thrilled to see you.”

“But--”

“No ‘buts’. We covered it in the car: you’re not a terrible person, she loves you no matter what, she’ll have forgiven you already, you’re a cop now and she will be very proud of you for turning your life around, and you left her and owe it to her to patch things up.” She said.

That last one stung. Even though I was the one who suggested that particular argument, it didn’t make it any less painful. I had all but ran away from her when Dad died. Then I fell in with the wrong crowd and just couldn’t bear to face her after that. I should’ve been there for her. I should have stayed. But no, I just up and left her to grieve alone. Then when I stopped calling her? The guilt was making my stomach turn to knots like it was trying to punish me, too. I could feel myself start to sweat. _I left her alone._

I felt a paw on my shoulder. Sometime during my self-loathing monologue, Judy had closed the distance between us. And judging by how I was now eye-level with her, I had somehow ended up sitting on the ground. Her eyes were soft and full of concern. Her lips were pursed like she was trying her best not to ask me if I was okay. It would have done us no good, I was most certainly not okay: I could now feel my heart hammering against my ribs and was breathing in short gasps like I had just ran a marathon.

“I’m fine.” I lied, “I just need a second to compose myself.” Or an hour. Or a week.

She sat down on the curb next to me and sighed.

“You know the longer you put this off--”

“Yeah, yeah: ‘the harder it will be’. I just--I need a minute.” I drew in a deep, ragged sigh.

“Tell me about her.” Judy said beside me.

_What?_ I looked over at her.

“What?”

“Your mom. Tell me about her, it might help ease you into this.”

I thought for a minute. There were a lot of things I could say about her, and most of them would just make it harder for me to own up to my guilt and go knock on the door, but there had to be _something_. Some childhood memory that would calm me down enough to at least stand back up.

“You Are My Sunshine.” I said, nostalgia washing over me.

It was her turn to look at me in confusion, “What?”

“She used to sing it to me. To help me fall asleep.”

“Ah, I see.” She looked back out at the road.

“After...the incident I started to have this recurring nightmare about a world where the prey in this city forced all the predators to wear shock collars to keep us ‘tame’. It was awful.” Just thinking about it caused me to rub my neck involuntarily, “Every night I had it, I’d wake up screaming and she’d come in and she’d hug me and tell me everything was going to be alright. Then she’d start singing You Are My Sunshine until I fell back asleep.”

“That’s surprisingly adorable, Nick. I thought you were supposed to be a sullen con-man beaten down by life with a scarring childhood.”

I chuckled, “No, the scars came _later_.” I took in a deep breath, “I still have those nightmares, you know. But now I just roll over and go back to sleep.”

She leaned over on me, “And you feel like that was your last connection home and now it doesn’t mean anything.”

Well, I hadn’t thought that until she said it. I took my paw out of hers (when did that happen?) and rubbed an eye.

“Now or never, I guess.” My heart was back to normal now, so I took that as my cue to stand up again.

I popped my back and groaned. Judy dusted herself off and sighed, looking at her now-dusty paws.

“Thanks for coming. I don’t think I could’ve handled this without you, Carrots.” I said.

“No problem, that’s what friends are for.” She smiled.

I turned around and started marching toward the door again. This time there was no hesitation, I knocked and took in another deep breath. _I can do this._ I heard shuffling behind the door. Judy touched my arm as one of the locks on the door turned. Mom must’ve only been using one lock today, because the door swung open a second later.

Katherine Wilde had--all things considered--aged rather gracefully: her sharp, green eyes were still as bright as I remembered when I was a kid. She had significantly more silver in her auburn fur than the last time I had seen her, but the same could be said for me I suppose. All the fear I had coming into this were dashed the second I saw her: she wasn’t mad, or even really all that surprised. She was smiling like she used to when I came home from school. I was about to say something when she suddenly wrapped me in a hug.

She was stood just below me in height, I noticed, and the years had done nothing to weaken her surprisingly-strong arms. It was so familiar I almost lost it there, but I managed to hold it together.

“Oh, Nicky. You’ve come back!” She pushed me out to arm’s length, “I was starting to think you had forgotten about me! How have you been?”

“Good, Mom. Better than I’ve been in years.” She hugged me again.

“Oh, and who’s this?” Mom said.

I turned around to see Judy smiling meekly with both paws behind her back. Oh, what? Now _she_ was nervous about meeting her? The hard part was over!

“Mom, I’d like you to meet Officer Judy Hopps. She’s my partner at the Department. Judy, this is my mom, Katherine.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Wilde. Nick’s told me a lot about you.” And now she was lying. She was spending too much time with me.

“Please, call me Katherine.” Mom said, turning back to me, “Are you hungry? I was about to make some lunch.”

“I could eat. Judy? You good to stay for lunch?” It was our day off, so of course she was.

“Sure! I’d love that.” She smiled again.

“Then both of you come in, we have a lot of catching up to do.” Oh, did we ever.

 

***

 

Lunch consisted of cricket sandwiches (avocado sandwiches for Judy) and tea. Mom was still using the same table, apparently, so we all gathered around it.

“So, Nicky, what’s it like being a police officer?” Mom asked.

I swallowed a bit of my sandwich, “It’s...different. A lot like what I imagined the Junior Ranger Scouts was gonna be like, honestly. We’ve been helping a lot of animals.”

Mom smiled, “I saw the paper about an officer finding all those missing mammals, but I never imagined my son would have been there to help. I’m proud of you, Nick.”

That simple phrase had to be the best thing I had heard all week. I smiled back feeling happier than I could even remember being. I took another bite of my sandwich and noticed Judy blanch in the corner.

“Want some? The crickets give it a nice crunch!” I held my second sandwich out to her. She looked a little sick, and I giggled.

“Don’t tease her, Nick.” And for the first time in decades, my mommy got on to me. I don’t think I’d ever been happier to hear that slightly stern voice of hers.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Wil--Katherine. We’ve been working together for a few weeks, I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

Mom looked over at me, “That’s my Nicky: always the joker, just like his father.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Only when you’re being as incorrigible as he was! I loved him to death, but your father _constantly_ wore on my nerves. I’m convinced he had no other way to express emotion.” She looked over at Judy, “So how did you two meet, dear?”

Judy took a sip of tea and looked at me with a sly grin that made me regret every decision I had ever made.

“We met in an ice-cream parlor. He was trying to buy a jumbo-pop for his ‘son’.” This was going to end well.

“Nick, is there something you need to tell me?” Mom was looking at me expectantly.

“Hate to tell you, but you’re not a grandmother yet.” My eye twitched and I swore I saw Judy’s eyebrows raise at ‘yet’, “I was running a scam with a friend and she got caught in the middle.”

Mom’s ears folded back a bit and her expression darkened.

“Nicholas Piberius Wilde, what did I tell you about scams?“ A better question was: what was up with everyone and my middle name today?

I sighed, feeling just as guilty as the day it happened, “Not to do them, that they set a bad example for young foxes and help solidify stereotypes against us.”

“In all fairness, he only really conned me with it. I was the only one dumb enough to believe him.” Judy chimed in, “I just can’t believe he actually got me to pay for the thing.” My heart dropped in my chest.

“You scammed this nice girl out of her hard-earned money? Have you no shame, Nick?” Mom was fuming, Judy was grinning, and I was trying my best to disappear.

“Y-yes. But then she almost got me killed at least three times, so it all works out. Right?”

Mom’s eyes narrowed. I could see Judy trying to hide her laughter. Out of all the things she could have brought up, it had to be Jumbeaux’s. I sighed and pulled out my wallet. Mom smiled a little and Judy just stared at me expectantly.

“Here, all I have is a twenty. Keep the change.” I threw the bill at her. She pocketed it, smiling proudly.

“Thank you, Nick.”

“I can’t believe you told on me to my _mom_. I thought you were supposed to be the mature one here.” I crossed my arms.

“That’s enough, Nick.” Mom said.

Judy looked pleased with herself. I didn’t want to risk making my mom any angrier than she already was, so I just let it slide.

“So, what have you been up to?” I asked her.

“Oh, nothing much. Reading, mostly. Tell me more about yourself, I’ve been waiting almost two decades to see you and all I hear when you show up is how you conned this lovely young woman and then risked your life multiple times within the course of a few days? There must be more to it. Anyone...special in your life?” She actually raised her eyebrows at me.

Judy leaned forward, “Oh, I _have_ to hear this. I’ve been wondering this myself.”

“No, not really. Between time at the station and looking for a new apartment I haven’t really been able to get out much.” I tried to refrain from mentioning that by ‘new apartment’ I really just meant anything but that decrepit basement I’d been living in.

Judy sat back and Mom huffed in disappointment.

“I want grandkits, Nicholas. In my lifetime, preferably.”

Judy covered a giggle with a cough, and I stared daggers at her. I swear, if she told Ben about this…

“I hope that isn’t some low-key way of telling me you’re not long for this world.” I said, only half-seriously.

“No, doctors say I’ll live to be a hundred and fifty if my health keeps going like this.”

“So I’ve got some time then.”

Judy cleared her throat (to hide another giggle, no doubt). She looked like she was about to say something, but her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and looked at the screen. Her shoulders dropped and her ears drooped a bit.

“Something wrong?”

“No, but I need to go. One of my neighbors left his key in his apartment and needs me to let him into the building.” She turned to Mom, “It was lovely meeting you, Katherine. Thank you for the sandwiches. See you tomorrow, Nick.” She got up from the table and left.

When she was gone, Mom turned toward me.

“She’s a lovely girl.” I could tell from her expression there was a lot more than four words in that sentence.

“Mom.” I warned, crossing arms again.

“Oh, come now. It’s obvious you like her! You’re acting the same way your father did around me.”

I blushed a little, “Well, yeah. But it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t feel the same way.” I turned away from her.

“Nick.” I looked back at her. Her eyes were half-lidded and full of disbelief, “Don’t be oblivious.”

“She doesn’t! Until we met, she was terrified of foxes.” I remembered her reaction at the press conference, “There’s _no way_ she likes me like that.”

She sighed, defeated, “Well, believe what you want. But Nick?”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“We both know what it’s like to lose someone you love. If you don’t at least confront this, it’ll drive a wedge between you. How will you feel if she shows up to the precinct one day and sets a picture of another boy down on her desk?”

“Mom, we don’t have desks. We have a table that we share.”

“You know what I mean.”

I sighed, “Yeah. But what would I say?”

“Whatever feels right. That’s what I did.” She smiled.

“I thought Dad asked _you_ out?”

“He did, but he never would have if I hadn’t told him how I felt about him. Sometimes these things just need a little kick to get them rolling. Just a suggestion, Nicky.”

She stood up and started clearing Judy’s spot at the table.

“Mom?” She stopped to look at me, “I’m sorry I left. I--I was scared and didn’t know what to do.”

She sat the plate she was holding down again and walked over. She wrapped her arms around me from behind.

“No. Don’t apologize, there’s nothing to be sorry about. You did what you thought you had to.” She kissed the top of my head.

“But I left you all alone, Mom. I should have been there for you.” I sniffed, tears starting to pull at the corners of my eyes.

“Shh. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” She started humming. I recognized the tune right away because I had been thinking about it almost every night for the past fifteen years.

“Dad told me. He told me that if something happened to him that I was supposed to be the man of the house. I let him down, too.” The humming was calming, but I was still going to cry. I’d been holding in these emotions for decades.                                   

The humming stopped, “Don’t you ever say that.” She moved around so she could see my face, “Your father would be proud of you. He was hardly a saint, he would have forgiven you just as I have. You fell into the same lifestyle that took him away,” That stung more than it should have, “But you managed to turn it around. You haven’t let anyone down, Nicholas.”

“I still feel terrible. You were grieving, I shouldn’t have scared you like that.” I wiped an eye with the back of my wrist.

“Scared me?” She put a paw on my cheek and dried my other eye with her thumb, “It’s not like you slipped away in the middle of the night, I knew you were going to leave the second you started hanging around that weasel friend of yours.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?”

“Because. You and your father have one major thing in common: neither of you know how to express emotions properly. I knew the only way for you to get through what you were feeling was to give you space. Was I sad when you ended up not coming home one night? Yes. But I didn’t want to tell you how to grieve. I knew you’d eventually come around, though.” She smiled.

“I love you, Mom.” I hugged her, squeezing her like I never planned to let go.

“I love you, too, Nick. Also, you’re welcome to stay here while you look for an apartment.”

“As much as I, Nicholas Piberius Wilde--” Dang it, they even got me doing it now, “--bachelor of 32 years old, would love to move back in with my mother, I’ve made other arrangements. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“I just thought that you’d like to spend more time with me, seeing as you _left_ me alone in this house for a decade and a half.” She put her paws on her hips. Was my sarcasm leaking today or something?

“I’ll be around, it’s just that I’ve already got my stuff moved over to a friend’s place. How about we have dinner tonight? My treat.”

She smiled again, “That sounds lovely, Nick. You should invite Judy, too.” She had one of the sliest grins I had ever seen outside a mirror.

“You’re going to pester me until I ask her out, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I smiled back, “I missed you, Mom.”

She patted my back, “I missed you, too, my little Sunshine.”

 

**END**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this on a whim because I want to get back to writing fan fiction again. Apologies for formatting, posting this on my phone. I'll add the indentation in sometime tomorrow.

Foxy Boxing

By: Gandalf158

 

My senses slowly came back to me, one at a time. First came a ringing noise that was less like a bell and more like a constant, high pitched whistle. Then a splitting headache that was not coming from my sudden outburst of tinnitus and a tingling along the side of my snout. As the ringing started to go away, I was starting to pick out a few voices, but was still too out of it to hear what they were saying. Suddenly, my eyes decided to start working, though not especially well: everything was just smudges of color swirling in front of me. One was very grey, moving very fast, and seemed to be the source of one of the more frantic sounding voices. Taste came back to me a little later and finally began to shine some light on my current situation. There was blood in my mouth. A lot of blood. Blood I quickly spat out. The grey shape and the yellow-ish one next to it recoiled and something made a sound of disgust.

It was then that my ears pulled themselves together.

“Gross!” Clawhauser said.

My brain, finally catching up, reminded me of what just happened: Judy had just decked me during training. And apparently laid me out in the process. I sat up quickly (and regretted the action almost as quickly). I winced as my hearing got drowned out by the ringing again. It didn’t last as long this time, but it did make the headache significantly worse. I blinked a few times to get my eyes to focus up and took in my surroundings: Clawhauser was wiping bloody spit off his cheek. Judy was looking at me like she was waiting for something.

“What?” I asked, wiping some drool (also bloody) from my lip.

“Are you alright?”

“I mean, I’ve been better.” At least she hadn’t broken my snout, that would’ve been a few weeks worth of apologetic texts and I wasn’t prepared to deal with that again.

“Nick, I’m so so—”

“I’m gonna hit the pause button right there, Fluff.” I stood up, trying my best to keep the sudden wooziness that accompanied the motion from showing on my face, “I’ve been hit a lot harder than that, and in much less friendly atmospheres.”

I didn’t need to look back at her to tell she wasn’t buying it. False bravado, while one of my stronger suits, just didn’t seem to work on Judy Hopps. It was almost like she’d spent the past year working with me and had learned all my tricks by now.

“You don’t exactly strike me as the street fighter type, Slick.” Any worry in her voice was gone now, and she was fully into ‘calling Nick on his bluffs’ mode.

I looked back at her with a hurt expression on my face, “I find your lack of faith disturbing. They don’t call me Nicholas ‘Foxy Boxing’ Wilde for nothing, you know.” I crossed my arms.

“Well, unfortunately, getting knocked out by a tiny bunny might throw off that reputation, mister Foxy Boxing.”

“What’s going on here?” Bogo, master of timing that he is, interrupted us before I could retort.

Judy and Clawhauser quickly snapped to attention. I turned and smiled.

“Just a little training, Chief. I’m helping Hopps get ready for a sting in the underground fight club scene.” I rested my elbow on the bunny-in-question’s head and leaned over, “I think she’s ready to go for the championship belt. Might even get a few arrests in afterwards.”

“Wilde, stop talking.” He looked at us before changing his attention to Clawhauser, “You’re needed at the front desk. And get that blood off your face before you return to your duties.” The duties he’d been neglecting for half an hour while watching us spar. I’d have to apologize for spitting blood into his face later.

Clawhauser shot off an embarrassingly sincere salute and went about his business. Bogo’s head swiveled to follow the cheetah as he sped out of the room. Judy took the chance to jab me in the side as a sign to get off of her. I obliged and rubbed my now-sore ribs. By the time Bogo turned his attention back to us, she had resumed her earlier posture and I had taken back to my normal slouch. Chief didn’t look amused. He fixed us with a no-nonsense look that I think was Judy’s signal that he wanted her to do all the talking for us.

“Officer Wilde and I were practicing hand-to-hand combat, sir. I felt like we both needed a refresher and an opportunity to practice against opponents closer to our own sizes.”

“Which obviously meant we had to fight each other because ZPD’s equal opportunity employment doesn’t cover size differences.”

Bogo’s eyes burned into me, but after working with  _ him  _ for a year I could tell he just didn’t want to admit he agreed with me. But he also wanted me to shut my mouth, and I decided that my luck had been pushed to the maximum for the day so I complied with a smirk.

“Yes, well,” the buffalo responded, “Carry on, then.” He turned to leave, but paused for a moment, “Way to take the initiative, Hopps.”

He continued out of the gym. Probably off to yell at some beat cops to make up for the rare compliment he just dolled out. And here I was thinking he’d used all of his nice things to say at the Christmas party last week.

“Well isn’t he just full of surprises. Think maybe if we get all our paperwork done he’ll let us play outside after dinner?”

Judy snorted, “Come on, Nick, break’s over. Back to training.”

She put her boxing gloves back on. I noticed for the first time that I was still wearing mine. And the foam helmet she made me wear. She turned towards me and got back into her fighting stance. I tried to mimic it: elbows in, fists raised, feet apart, but for some reason it felt…off. Judy looked solid, ridiculousness of seeing her tensed and ready for a fight aside. I just felt like I was posing for a picture, she looked like she was ready to take on a pack of wolves single-handedly. I dropped my hands and rolled my shoulders a bit.

“Something wrong, Mr. Foxy Boxing?”

“Are you sure I’m doing this right? I feel like one good hit is gonna send me sprawling again.”

She relaxed, “It’s not the stance. Try switching which shoulder you lead with.”

I adjusted, but it still didn’t feel right. It felt like I was trying to squeeze myself into a box and wasn’t quite fitting into it.

“Nope, didn’t help.” I shook my head, “Maybe if we get into a situation where fisticuffs are needed, I’ll just cower in the corner while you Ronda Mousey them into submission.”

Her hands went straight to her hips and her voice went back to bluff calling mode, “What happened to all that big talk about street fighting?”

“If you couldn’t tell that was part of the whole ‘don’t let them see that they get to you’ shtick. Between the two of us, I don’t think I’m cut out for this whole defending myself in a dangerous situation thing.”

She thought about it for a moment, glove resting against her chin comically. Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she pointed the glove at me.

“Did I ever tell you how I learned to fight?”

“No, but having heard some of your stories in the past I’m going to guess it stems from something a childhood bully did to you in grade school or because your parents told you you couldn’t learn how to fight because bunnies don’t fight.”

She deadpanned, “Am I really that two dimensional in your head? No. I learned to fight because my big sister wanted to teach me so I could defend myself if someone ever tried to hurt me.”

“So it  _ was  _ technically cause that bumpkin cut your face when you were nine. Ha, you are just as shallow as I portray you in my head!” I crossed my arms.

“Can it. This was actually four years later when I started going to the middle school a town over. Anyway, my sister had taken up wrestling in high school and had been bullied pretty hard when she was going to that middle school and wanted to prepare me for it. She tried to teach me wrestling because it was what she knew, but I wasn’t getting it. I just wasn’t heavy enough to tackle anyone. Rather than put on some extra weight, I decided to look into different techniques. Luckily my sister had a friend whose father was a boxer.”

“I didn’t know Bunnyburrow was known for having such a robust martial arts community.” I failed to see how an anecdote about her failing to learn wrestling was gonna help me stop failing at self-defense.

“Will you please just listen to the story?”

I rolled my eyes, but motioned for her to continue. She never brought up her childhood unless there was an actual point to be made.

“Thank you.” She said, “Well, as I was saying, she had a friend who knew a little boxing. He taught me a few of the basics and told me how to stand to make myself less of a target while still being able to strike fairly easily. It didn’t require as much weight, just an ability to take a punch and deal one out every once in a while. Luckily I never had to actually fight anyone and what little I had learned at least got me through the academy. Which, looking at your skills as a fighter, may not be as much of an achievement as I had originally thought.”

“Was that glimpse into your tragic backstory just an extended means of telling me I’m bad at fighting?”

“No, the point I was trying to make is that maybe it’s not about you not knowing how to fight, but maybe you’re just trying to fight using the wrong style. I was not good at wrestling, but got pretty good at boxing. Maybe boxing isn’t your thing, maybe you just need to find a style that works for you.”

I leaned back on the ropes behind me, “And how are we supposed to do that?”

“Well, I was bad at wrestling because I didn’t have enough weight to make the grapples stick. Why do you think you’re bad at boxing?”

I though about it for  a moment. “I don’t feel like I’m moving enough. It’s like I’m inviting you to punch me in the face. Isn’t the point of a fight to  _ not _ get punched in the face?”

She nodded, “So move around. You’re fast, use that.” She dropped back into position, “This time, don’t worry about stances, just try and dodge around my punches.”

I stood up and popped my neck, “Alright.”

She made a show of drawing back for the first punch. I sidestepped to the right. She turned and smiled as if to tell me I was doing  a good job. She threw another punch, this one much less showy and more forceful. I barely ducked under it. She followed up with an uppercut that almost cost me the tip of my tongue.

“Gotta be quicker than that, Nick. I’ve seen you run before, you’re faster than this.” Drill Instructor Judy said as she rolled her shoulders and got ready for another series of hits.

She threw out three in rapid succession. I leaned to the left and was forced to give a little ground to avoid the third punch. I jumped out of the way of a kick that she aimed at my chest. Another hook caught me in the side of the head, but nowhere near as hard as the one that had knocked me out earlier. She was still pulling punches. I decided it was time to go on a bit of a counter-offensive.

I dodged her next punch and threw one of my own. She smacked my arm out of the way before it could connect and used the momentum she’d built up to deliver another shot to my snout. For the second time that day, I could taste blood in my mouth, and for the second time, I found myself lying on the ground. This time however, I was on my stomach and I could tell that she had most definitely broken my snout. I got onto my knees and stood up slowly, keeping my head low to keep the blood going out my nose and not down my throat. I put a hand to my tender snout and felt the damage: she hadn’t laid it completely over, but there was a noticeable curve to it now.

Judy had her hands in front of her face, leaving only her wide-as-dinner-plates eyes visible. She was shaking, and at first I thought she was about to start crying, but then she went to put a hand on my shoulder and I could see her smile. She started laughing.

“Laugh it up, Fluff.” My voice was high-pitched and congested, which made her laugh harder.

I struggled to keep tears from coming to my eyes, but eventually lost the fight and started laughing, too. I forced myself to stop quickly, it was making the searing pain in my snout unbearable.

“Come on, Dumb Fox, let’s get you to a nurse.” She started to lead me out of the gym, arm around my shoulder.

“I think I’m just gonna fall back on the cowering plan for a while.”

“You’ll get it eventually.”

“You should really think about getting into street fighting, you’d make a killing with that left hook.”

She chuckled, “Maybe someday we’ll actually do that sting you were talking about earlier.”

“Woe be to anyone that steps in the ring with you.”


End file.
